Black and White, and In Between
by Micah Debrink
Summary: There was only one thing that was dark in Nuvema Town in the days leading up to and during Black's funeral. In the Pokémon Adventures universe. Black x Iris, no known name for this shipping. Also includes some rival shippings. Rated T for language and thematic elements.


(Hey guys. I was inspired by recent events in my life to write this story. Contains some controversial themes which may be offensive to some people. Discretion is advised. Pokémon and its trademarked items do not belong to me.)

Black and White, and In Between

 _"Just look at that moon, Iris."_

 _"It's a full moon, isn't it, Black?"_

 _"Yeah. It kinda reminds me of the Light Stone."_

 _"The Light…but isn't that where you belong, Black? Up there, trapped in the Light Stone. Why are you here?"_

 _"Are you complaining, Iris?"_

 _"Why…no, no, of course…of course not."_

 _"But as long as the moon is full, I'll be here…with you."_

 _"Oh, Black! Hold me!"_

 _"Not…so…tight…hehe. Iris, it's not that cold."_

 _"I'm used to warmth, Black. You always warm me up. Indulge me for a moment. Heh…you're not too big on hugs are you, Black?"_

 _"No. But hey, I brought something to warm us up. Look."_

 _"A Thermos?"_

 _"Of coffee, Iris. Piping hot coffee."_

 _"Coffee…coffee…"_

 _"Yeah. Have a cup, what d'you think?"_

 _"It's good…it's really good…but…coffee!? Why coffee!?"_

 _"You just mumbling to yourself, Iris, or what? Speak up."_

 _"Wait a sec. Coffee…? You're giving me 'hot coffee'…hehe. Oh, hell! Black, you dirty little mind!"_

 _"We're two of a kind, Iris. We complement each other, Iris. Haven't you noticed?"_

 _"I have noticed. And I still do. No really! I do…I do…I do…"_

I woke up.

Black had this musharna that could eat dreams. I wish it was still around. Because always when I wake up from that dream, it turns into a nightmare.

Black isn't here anymore. He's gone, having been absorbed into the Light Stone when the conflict with Team Plasma came to a head. I'm not in Nuvema. I'm sleeping in the apartment above the Opelucid Gym. I look at the clock. Shit. Four AM. It's frickin' cold. Where're my slippers? I find them and put them on. I figure that I can just start the day right now, and I make myself a nice hot cup of coffee to wake me up.

But then I forget. I can't drink hot coffee anymore. It warms me up too much.

* * *

It was several months ago. I had just arrived at Nuvema Town from Opelucid. It was quiet and no one was in the street because it was winter. Being at the southern tip of Unova, Nuvema people are generally real pussies when it comes to winter; they duck for cover when they see one crummy snowflake.

They haven't been to Opelucid, way up north. Opelucid's continuously covered in white snow for at least three months of winter, and I've already seen the temperatures reach 30 below zero this winter.

Grandpa Drayden called me on my XTransciever when I arrived. He's been hanging around the League ever since the big fiasco last time, working with engineers to make sure such an attack never happens again. He said he found the spot where Black had disappeared. I almost got mad at Grandpa. I really felt like he was trying to spite me or something. People do that if they're just your friend; not your parent, but an equally close friend. 'Cause that's what Grandpa Drayden and Alder are.

Anyway, back to the phone call. My XTransciever rang. I recognized the special ringtone. "Yes, Grandpa Drayden?" I swear that I told him _I_ would call him when I got to Nuevma. For a ruthless male gym leader, he's way too paranoid about me.

"Iris, you got there safely?" He asked.

I sighed audibly. "Yes, I did, Grandpa Drayden!"

"It looks like it's freezing out there," he said, looking at the video image. "Did you bring a coat?"

"What're you talking about? You're from Opelucid! The pussies down here in Nuvema get cold when it's 50 outside or something!"

"It must've been a long journey. You wanna talk or something? I can put the Elite Four on the line if you're interested. They're…standing right behind me."

"Damn it, I'm fine, Grandpa Drayden! Stop bothering me! Even real parents don't pester me like that! Stop calling!"

"Iris, I'm very busy right now. I skipped a meeting with some the engineers just so I could call you. I'm only doing this as a favor to you. And if you don't want me to call you, then so be it." He hung up, and it was silent.

I listened to the brisk wind as it hit my ears. It felt just so much colder. Maybe Nuevma people aren't really winter wimps.

* * *

After so long, Black had returned to Nuvema Town. But it only truly sunk in for me when his Mother started crying. Not like crying as in weeping, gently. Like, crying. Loud. Wailing, sobbing, hugging, kissing, touching—as they privately buried his possessions underground, as a representation of his body. The public memorial service was scheduled for the next day, where a cenotaph would be placed in Black's honor over his buried possessions.

Even though I boast about living through an Opelucid winter, really I've got all those dragon-type pokémon that keep me warm most of the time. And I always bring a Thermos with some hot drink (usually coffee) to keep me warm. I can't stand cold. Even in the freezing winter of Opelucid, I stay warm. Up north, I've never had to deal with cold face to face.

That is, until I arrived at Nuvema.

I went to Black's childhood home the day before the public memorial. They were holding a small private reception for those who were especially close to Black. I knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Bianca, now the Professor's assistant, opened the door.

"Erm…my name is Iris, I trained with Black when he—"

"Who're you?" She frowned. From what Black told me, Bianca was always so cheerful. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time a guy has lied to me.

"Hmm…I see." Bianca was studying me, like I was a pokémon test subject or something. She had done away with even her white lab coat, and settled with a black above-knee dress. I realized that I had forgotten to change into the appropriate all-black outfit for mourning, but I figured I had enough black on me that Bianca would let me in anyway.

"I came all the way from Opelucid…please, may I come in?"

"Oh it's you, Iris!" I heard the senior Professor Juniper's voice inside. "You're more than welcome here, Iris. Let her in, Bianca."

Bianca waited a few seconds before opening the door fully and letting me pass through. The assistant wouldn't stop staring and frowning at me the whole time. At first I thought it was because of my inappropriate clothes or something. But I got the feeling after a while that that wasn't the case. If anything, I was more modest, wearing my white and pink boot-cut pants with a grey leather jacket on top.

Bianca directed me to the living room, where White and Cheren were also sitting.

"Ugh…it's freezing out there," the Professor said. "My daughter just went out get some supplies at the PokeMart. I hope she's okay. I've never seen it this cold in Nuvema before—it's even snowing a little."

"Probably because Black died," I suggested, as I took a seat by the fireplace in the living room.

"He's not dead!" White blurted out. Though she wasn't looking at me; she was looking into the fire. "He's just…gone." Cheren and Bianca nodded in agreement.

"Ahem—" Bianca stood by the armchair I was sitting in. There were three large cushioned armchairs by the fireplace. It must've been where Black, Bianca, and Cheren sat when they were kids. White sat where Black used to sit. There wasn't room for any more.

I stood up and let Bianca took the seat that her big fat ass had originally occupied. I sat in the only other seat in the room; a small plastic chair in the far corner of the room.

"Are you all right, Iris?" Mr. Juniper came to check on me.

"Oh…I'm fine."

"Would you like my office chair? It's cushiony and has wheels on it."

"Erm…no thanks." I figured there being only three chairs was a portent. I shouldn't stay too long.

"Was your journey very long?" The professor continued to ask.

"Oh, not at all. On my druddigon it took me just a few hours from Opelucid."

He turned his attention to his assistant, sitting by the fireplace. "Bianca, the files you organized this morning are ordered incorrectly. I wanted them alphabetized, not sorted by date. Maybe this evening you can come to the lab and we'll reorganize it together."

"But your daughter told me to—"

"You don't have to worry about it right now. Now, would the four of you like some tea? Iris?" He turned to me.

"Oh, thanks, Professor…Professor…"

"'Juniper'," Bianca corrected me. "Professor 'Juniper'."

"Oh…I'm sorry," I apologized to Bianca. She didn't say anything, but it looked to me that she didn't accept my apology.

I turned to the Professor. "No thanks Professor…Juniper, but I prefer coffee."

Bianca walked up to where I was sitting in the corner. I was forced to stand due to her proximity. "There's a pot of coffee in the kitchen. Go get it yourself."

"Nonsense…Bianca," the Professor said. "I'll get some coffee for you while I'm getting the tea, Iris. No need to get up."

Standing up, I walked over to the fireplace where the other three were sitting.

"You can take my seat if you want, Iris," Cheren said as he stood up.

"Aww, Cheren, you're too polite sometimes." Suddenly Bianca had turned all sweet.

I sat down in Cheren's former seat, the rightmost seat. The fire was warming me up. Now I understood why everyone was seated by the fireplace. The fire itself wasn't that warm. But you could feel Black's hot spirit emanating from it.

"Black was my best friend," Bianca reminisced, staring at me the whole time with a solemn face. "We were together for _nine years_ ," she emphasized as her eyes locked with mine and she glared at me.

"I was with him on his _entire journey_ in Unova," White noted.

"He was the only one daring enough to challenge father's authority when we were little. Remember how he battled Daddy's stoutland and unfezant together?"

Cheren nodded, standing to the right of my seat. "Well, you can't blame your father for being so worried, Bianca. He was always such an impulsive little brat as a kid. He became so much nobler later on. Like the time when you were attacked by Team Plasma, Black located their stronghold, and saved all the captured pokémon."

"Yeah, I was there!" I blurted out, grinning with excitement as I looked at Bianca. "I rescued you from the alleyway."

"Yeah…" Bianca didn't say much. "Remember the first time Black told us about how he was gonna win the Pokémon League? Don't you remember Cheren?"

"Erm…vaguely. What about when I fought Black at the Pokémon League? And how Musha rescued me from the brainwashing of Team Plasma?"

I remember that, I saw it happen. It was terrifying to see him. Being raised by Drayden and Alder, I was used to being audience to intense battles. But I'd never seen Black so scared as he was whisked up to the roof by Cheren's unfezant. If I had won the battle against Black—if I had been in his shoes, fighting Cheren—I don't think I could have survived. Having Cheren just stand beside me was a bit frightening. He was a fellow gym leader, after all.

"Cheren, you seriously don't remember the first time Black said he was gonna win the Pokémon League?" Bianca scoffed. "You must've forgotten 'cause of the brainwashing Team Plasma had put you through. What about you, Iris—oh, I forgot. You weren't there." I had the hunch that she knew I wasn't there. She just wanted to rub it in my face some more.

"About the League," I said, "I think if it hadn't been for Musha's opportune arrival, Black would have been chopped liver against Cheren. Cheren's battle ability perhaps surpasses Black's. His potential just hasn't been exploited yet."

The two girls looked at me weird. Like what, Black didn't have his faults, he wasn't a kid who made mistakes as well? If I died, I'd want to be remembered for my struggles and failures, because really, that's what defines me. D'you think I became the apprentice of Alder and Drayden…to be perfect? But maybe I only feel that way because I didn't have the perfect little coddled life like Cheren and Bianca and White and their inseparable childhood friend had.

"I'd have done anything for Black if I ever knew he would die so soon," White declared.

White nodded in agreement. The tears stained the black fabric surfaces of their completely Black garments. A fitting tribute, I suppose. Watching the two of them cry became sickening.

"Iris—" The Professor tapped my shoulder. "Would you like me to show you the spot where Black trained as a kid?"

"Oh I know where it is," Bianca stood up immediately. "I'll show you."

"It's kinda cold outside, though," I said, looking out the window. It stopped snowing and the sun was peeking out.

"You can take my coat," Cheren said.

"Oh, you're not going out?"

"No, I gotta stay behind to help Ms. Juniper when she gets back. She's bringing stuff to help train my pokémon."

"In…in that case, I'll stay behind," I said, trying to retreat from the debate.

Mr. Juniper looked out the window. "Oh no, my daughter's arriving early." He turned to Cheren. "We gotta get things set up.

" Iris, unfortunately I can't go with you," he said, "'cause I gotta help my daughter with these performance enhancement exercises; she's new to this kind of thing. But I'm sure…Bianca and White…will take good care of you."

He was probably being honest with me for the most part, but knew damn sure that he was lying about the last thing. The Professor turned and glared at the two girls.

"Erm, yeah, Iris, come along with us," Bianca said, her eyes nervously looking at the Professor.

"Yeah, come join us, Iris," White threw on one of her signature fake smiles and beckoned me to join them. So I did.

Bianca and White joined hands in mutual consolation as they left the house and headed for the training spot. I held the door open for them. They looked at me briefly, then for the rest of the trip they turned away.

I was so fucking angry.

* * *

We walked for a couple miles through narrow tracks plowed through fields of tall grass, until Bianca stopped us at a dirt clearing in the middle of the field. "This is the place. See, the ground is still disturbed. "And then he'd stand on top that big rock…"—she pointed—"…and shout about how much he wanted to win the Pokémon League."

I couldn't see much, actually. There was a narrow dark shadow formed by the rock, and Bianca and White both crowded under it. The white-hot sun was very glaring, and I could barely see the top of the rock, which reflected the light back into my eyes. All I could see were the silhouettes of White and Bianca under the shadow, looking up at the rock that I could not see.

"Isn't it such a beautiful rock? Can't you see how beautiful it is, Iris?" Bianca said, her head tilted back looking up at the rock, looking as if her nose was pointed in the air.

A brisk wind swept across the grassland. Even though it was sunny, the absence of trees to block the wind made me shiver. Bianca and White huddled with each other briefly to insulate themselves from the wind. Standing in the darkness of the shadow, they felt even colder than I did. I laughed to myself.

I couldn't say much about the rock that I could not see. My eyes were growing tired from squinting in the sunlight. I looked at the white light in front of me that was supposed to be the rock.

"I…I suppose Black couldn't find anywhere else to shout without getting himself arrested," I settled on saying, adding a nervous chuckle to the end.

They looked at me funny again. I listened as the wind blew silently, disappointingly devoid of Black's spirit. Bianca and White glared silently at me. It was that same feeling again. I was a child. Does something count as a feeling if you've felt it your entire life? The world around me just seemed too old to appreciate me.

Even as precocious as I am in pokémon battles, I'm such a kid at heart. I cried by myself. Not the solemn cry of mourning of the Professor and Bianca and White and Cheren. The selfish cry of a child, wondering when her friend would ever be back with play with her.

I like to say that I'm "unique" rather than "childish". I can just hide my feeling with sass and wit, you get used to that when you're brought up by two middle-aged men, with hearts tougher to crack open than their skulls. And you often take after the adults closest to you, be it your parents or guardians or masters.

* * *

Grandpa Alder called me that night as I was about to get ready for bed. Professor Juniper offered me his spare room at his laboratory, which I accepted. I really didn't feel like camping outside. Not that I was worried it would be cold or anything. Just something about that deep, dark, sky that I couldn't stand.

"How are you feeling?" Grandpa Alder's been feeling down ever since he lost as the champion, and I was surprised he even brought his cell phone, venturing deep into the wild to "find his spirit".

"Erm…it's fine, Iris. Never better. Tell me, how's your day been?"

"Oh, yeah, it was great! Great, great." We both lied.

"Well, I won't take up too much of your time. Stay safe Iris, and if—"

"Just…just a minute," I said. "You're not too busy, are you?"

"Well…not particularly."

I looked out into the lonely night outside my window. I pulled the blanket over myself, and ignored the outside, looking in on my room.

I asked Grandpa, "Do…do you wanna talk…?"

* * *

It was at the public memorial the next day when my heart finally cracked open. I took care to dress properly in all black, but no one seemed to notice. In fact, the people of Nuvema were all there—and they were all staring at me.

Southern Unova has very unpredictable weather. It was fortunate that at the day of the outdoor memorial service, the weather turned from chilly to mild and humid. A thunderstorm from the tropics was set to arrive, but much later in the day. Consequently, everyone in the town had come, dressed in their elaborate black chiffon skirts and debonair solid-colored tuxedos.

Maybe I was out of place because I was just wearing a simple, solid black, knee-length dress—only one of two dresses I have in my closet. No really cares about clothes in Opelucid. You just wear what's comfortable for you. I can't tell you how may pairs of spandex leggings I've worn out in the past few months.

I kept trying to find where Cheren or Mr. Professor Juniper was. They were all too busy with comforting with the mourners and arranging the service that they really couldn't be bothered. I sat down on one of the white plastic chairs at the front, crossing my legs, pouting to get attention.

Everyone could see me, but no one cared—they would stare at me, then flip their gaze away from me like they had seen some horrible creature. If I had had my haxorus with me (I left my Poke-balls at the gym), I'd have given them a lesson on what a horrible creature _really_ is.

"Get outta this seat," Bianca said, jolting me out of my imagination. "This is the seat for family and close friends." She was wearing a layered black chiffon skirt, but the glitter around it made it glisten to almost a darkish grey, rather than black.

"You have to sit back there," White added. She pointed into the distance, as if it wasn't clear enough. The whole town had shown up for the service, and forty rows of white chairs had been almost completely filled. The only seat I could find was at least twenty rows from the front.

The man who I sat next to glared at me. He mumbled some excuse to himself about going to the bathroom, and got up from his chair. He didn't return for the rest of the service.

The murmuring from audience stopped when the cenotaph representing Black was placed at the graveyard. I thought some would have to tell me to shut up or something. But miraculously, I was quiet. Bianca, who sat at the front row, ran up to the cenotaph and started crying. Cheren followed her; even he couldn't hold back his tears.

There was a picture of Black placed above the cenotaph. He was smiling widely, almost too seriously to reflect his true personality. He looked like a changed man, turned wise from his journeys across Unova. I really felt like he was looking at me. Looking at me, trying to tell me something. He was beckoning me to come over.

Then suddenly, I ran past the rows and rows of mourners sitting obediently and let my body collapse in front of the cenotaph. I shed my tears, kneeling side by side with Bianca and White, our hands pressed against the cold grey stone. Looking close, it was a very peculiar grey: a grey right in the middle between white and black. We were both touching the white-black stone.

Bianca hugged the cenotaph tightly, as if worried that she might lose her grip. I listened as she murmured tearfully to herself, "Why, Black? No, why did you leave us? Why did you have to go?"

After watching her for a while, I realized that I was saying the same thing as Bianca. I was crying with her. I was hugging the cenotaph, tightly, just like her. Just like Black as being absorbed into the Light Stone, the stone of the cenotaph brought the two of us together.

We could both hear the indignation of the crowd behind us, shouting their insults at us. Bianca looked up at me, and the color drained from her face, pale and mortified at the sight of my childlike, tearful face. And how similar it was to the tears on her own face. Then we joined hands and hugged each other, Black's photograph smiling so proudly at us.

* * *

On my last night at Nuvema, I went back to Black's childhood training spot, under the light of the full moon, the sky otherwise covered by a cold, black night. I could see the entire rock, from the bottom to the top. I had brought a Thermos of hot coffee, but my excitement was more than enough to warm me up. I climbed up to the summit. And I screamed so loud that Black could hear me, all the way back home in Nuvema Town.

* * *

(END)

* * *

(Thanks for reading. This is definitely one of the more risky stories I have done in terms of theme, and I apologize if this story has offended anyone. Your comments and feedback are appreciated.)


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